


Malachor Twilight

by stuffilikeiwrite



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Brother-Sister Relationships, Drama, Gen, Sad!Vader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:40:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24152209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuffilikeiwrite/pseuds/stuffilikeiwrite
Summary: And there she was again.Ahsoka.
Relationships: Ahsoka Tano & Darth Vader, Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 8
Kudos: 87





	Malachor Twilight

Vader did his best to stay on his feet, his staggering from the exertion only half visible. The power overload from the Sith Temple’s explosion was still vibrating through his bones. The harsh landing of the fall through its floor as it shattered beneath his feet hadn’t helped. His legs were wobbling beneath his own weight; the battered and damaged respirator not providing him with quite enough oxygen. He felt lightheaded and dizzy, the unfiltered fresh air of Malachor twilight stinging his exposed yellow eye; making his vision blur and falter. 

His tie fighter was all but obliterated, his only hope lay with the troopers and inquisitors he’d ordered to wait behind for him in case things went sour. That was the least of his problems. The constant wheeze of the lifte supporting circuit was sharp to his ears; the fading sun rays making his suit feel too hot, and too hindering. He concluded that its heat regulation system must be running haywire as well. Before his inner vision, he still saw Ahsoka’s blue eyes staring pleadingly at him. Defiant, pitying him. 

He didn’t need pity, didn’t need compassion. Teeth grit, he stumbled over his own feet; uncharacteristically clumsy. He chalked it up to his cybernetic limbs having taken a fair amount of damage from the previous electrical currents.

Vader could barely make out the shuttle waiting in the distance; as he squinted his eyes. The clear vision of the red lens on the left side; a bleary, unfocused mass of colours and shades to the right. A sharp stinging sensation in his chest; and he gasped despite the fact that no air would pass through his lips. Squeezing his eyes tightly shut; he struggled stubbornly onward.

One step. Two. 

His limp all the more frustrating and hindering, the tearing grinding of crudely attached mechno-durasteel against his tender flesh stumps. Just a little farther. His entire body tense; head spinning. And then, for a second, his vision faltered. The entire world fading to black, falling out of time as a wave of sickness washed over him. With his stomach and intestines withered to nothing; he could not wretch or hurl - which was probably a blessing, given the face plate. Instead, he would only gag as he sank down on one knee. A mixture of mud, dust and sand giving way beneath his weight.

His vision returned; one gloved hand clutching viciously at his thigh to remain mostly upright. He blinked a couple of times, shutting his eyes. Soothing the burning sensation of his sensitive revealed retina; once scorched by flames and molten rock, never fully healed. Just like the rest of his body. His faulty breathing device matching his breaths to come slightly harder, faster. Matching his need for oxygen, as best as it could. 

And there she was again. 

_Ahsoka._

The sincerity in her voice. She had spoken with an apologetic tone; she had been brutally honest in conveying her own guilt. Accepting the blame; accepting her part of the betrayal.

Vader shook his head; only to find a fresh wave of nausea overcoming him. He pursed his charred lips together. She was gone, now. He’d seen to that. She’d repented and paid for her mistakes, for her failure. She had left him, abandoned him when he needed her most. Had never repented for her own selfishness. Clutching his free fist into a tight ball; Vader noticed that he was trembling. He found that what remained of his muscles, his tendons; his living tissue - was quivering. Spasming, twitching and convulsing uncontrollably. The more he tried to force his body to obey and stay still; it was unrelenting. 

Ahsoka was gone. Another part of _The Jedi_ demolished, crushed into oblivion. He should rejoice. So why then, would his physical body not cooperate? He felt the intense, heavy pressure squeezing at his chest. If he’d been breathing for himself; he would have turned short of breath. There was a thick lump lodged in his throat. 

The anger kept rising; red hot, burning and pulsating. Making his head pound until he was livid. There was no reason to care, to be moved. He should be soothed; should be satisfied with the outcome. He had killed her. It had been the deal from the beginning; if she would not join him, she must succumb. And if he hadn’t killed her; the explosion certainly had. He could not sense her Force signature. He had aimed the blow for her neck; had not felt the impact but was convinced it had been a successful strike. Clean and merciful.

And somehow, that made the tremors grow in their intensity. He wanted to get up; attempting to will his legs into rising. They would not budge. Instead, his thighs quaked and protested against any movements. Vader found himself confounded; disdainful towards his own body’s defiance of his mind. The image of Ahsoka, the last time he had seen her until now. So many years ago; her expression lost and forlorn. Sad; wishing to speak, everything still unresolved between them. Up in the air. Regretful. It would forever remain that way; forever unspoken. Even now, it would never be resolved.

_No._

That was _The Jedi’s_ old memories; _The Jedi’s_ unresolved emotional attachments. Vader would not acknowledge such weaknesses. And still, that lump in his throat would not go away. Instead, it grew until swallowing was painful - more so than usual, given his near nonexistent saliva glands. He squeezed his hands tighter still. The one clutching at his thigh digging its mechno digits deep into the flesh; bruising the area. The balled up one creaking in protest. He felt a familiar burning at the bridge of his nose; felt it travel into his cheeks, into the corners of his eyes. It stung. It burnt like a wildfire; damaged tear ducts forced into labour. He felt his eyes prickle; and he shook his head. 

_The Jedi_ had been the one who would always weep. The man who could not contain his own emotional outbursts, his own suffering. Vader was no longer that man. He would not cry; he would not shed tears over _The Jedi’s_ pathetic existence. Over _The Jedi’s_ faded past. Over _The Jedi’s_ misguided apprentice. 

And still, it was only then he let it sink in that Ahsoka was gone. Truly gone. Forever. By his hand. By his doing. The way she had said his name in shock; in exasperation repeating in his head like a mantra.

_No._ The Jedi’s _name. You no longer respond to it, no longer recognize it._

But it ached. It crept under his skin; a grunt escaping his pained vocal chords. Ahsoka. _The Jedi’s_ padawan. He had loved her; had taken her under his wing. Like a little sister; sacrificing everything for her - to clear her falsely accused name. And what for? She had turned him down either way. Had left him with his pain; had thought only of herself and her own gain. Not of him, or how losing her would affect him. Three times, she had had the choice to stay by his side. Three times, she had refused. 

Vader let his shoulders sag; hung his head slightly as the constant shuddering state of his body began to take its toll on him.

He shook his head; clenched his jaw. Stubborn; but the ball of tears in his throat was lodged in there still. And suddenly; there was an all too familiar wetness pooling at the corners of his eyes. Moist and warm; scalding against his scarred features. He let his arms fall to his sides then; slack. And as soon as he did; as soon as he released the tension and let his body relax - surrendering the fight - the tears escaped. One trailing lazily down his pale cheek; traveling along the crudely healed crevices and hollows. Once it reached the collar piece of his mask; another followed. And another. And yet another. 

The rage was back; overwhelming. But what did it help? Vader found he couldn’t stop. A pathetic, broken noise left his throat and it took far too long for him to realize that the sound had come from him. His face sticky and stricken with tear tracks. They pooled against his skin; trapped between harsh durasteel mouthpieces and his jawline. Unable to continue their route. And still, he could not stop.

Ahsoka had cried when she left the Jedi Temple. When she walked away from him. He had not seen the tears; but he had felt the despair through their bond. Her eyes had been glassy when she wished him good luck, before leaving for Mandalore and Maul. Her eyes had been glassy when she spoke his name again. _Anakin_.

_No. Not your name._ The Jedi’s _name._

But she had meant it for him; it had been directed only at him. There was a pang in his chest; the sound of the respirator’s almost frantic pace along with the distant lull of sea waves and the wind all he could hear. Fat globs of tears falling like rain; as soon as one finished its path, another one took its place. The red unharmed lens of his face plate fogged up from their condensed heat. He was supposed to be empty, numb and void of sentience. Supposed to be detached from the pain of the past; supposed to use it to his advantage rather than allow it to cripple him like this.

Eventually; his tears run dry. All that remained being scabbed, salty lines of dried wetness flaking along his face. He reached up with one gloved hand; reaching its thumb into the cracked crevice of his mask to rub them away. The touch felt harsh against his thin skin, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

Finally, he managed to rise to his feet. Slowly, cautiously. On wobbly legs; a searing pain shooting up his spine from where his right leg was connected to the prosthetic limb. Still; he straightened up. Began to press on, to continue his stride; towards his destination. He was intent on leaving this hellhole of a planet behind. He could not bear to stay any longer than necessary. 

_It will forever be Ahsoka’s grave._

Now, he was truly numb.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was written before the final episode of TCW, and at first when I posted it I was worried about it being too OOC. Now, I'm not that worried anymore, cause it feels a bit more validated. Hope you enjoy, I just like making Vader sad I suppose.


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